


Worth Waiting For

by AKMars



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Time, Jealousy, M/M, Romance, explicit sexual encounter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 13:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKMars/pseuds/AKMars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of four 'gift fics' I offered up on the 'Person of Interest' LJ Community.  Folks sent me prompts/requests.  This was one that I chose.  Enjoy!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth Waiting For

Title: Worth Waiting For  
Rating: NC-17 (explicit sexual encounter)  
Characters: Harold Finch, John Reese, OMC  
Pairing: Finch/Reese  
Category: Angst, Romance, Eventual First Time, Jealousy  
Words: 3,900 (yeah...I ran long, lol!)

Prompt: see notes at end of story

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

_Metropolitan Museum of Art, platinum members gala preview of Bernini exhibit_

 

_“That son-ofa-bitch.....how dare he touch-”_

John Reese growled obscenities under his breath as he watched the pleasantly tipsy thirty-something man sling an arm around his companion’s waist. He leaned in to rub his cheek against the other man’s face.

“S’alright Harold...’m okay.”

“Don’t worry Jeremy. My car is right over here, we’ll get you home.”

“You’re a good guy, Harold.” 

The billionaire just chuckled in reply. “Come on, now you have to help me....I can’t carry you.”

Reese’s jaw clenched as Finch and his driver wrangled the inebriated man into the limousine. The chauffeur saw Harold into the backseat before steering the sleek, black car out into city traffic. An hour later, John was back at his loft, doing his best to wear a hole in the hardwood floors from continual pacing. 

He’d been tracking his boss for the past three weeks; ever since he’d seen the blond-haired _wunderkind_ sitting with Finch in the park one afternoon when ‘Mr. Wren’ was bolstering his alias as an insurance executive. The two men were ensconced at a cafe table, ostensibly going over files on a shared claim between their firms while enjoying an al fresco lunch. 

The op would have left things at that but the fact that Finch smiled, _laughed_ even, while conversing with his much younger companion, left John consumed with a resentment that shocked him with its intensity. He immediately began surveillance on the pair and in that time Finch’s ‘friend’ had visited Harold’s office on multiple occasions as well as showing up at other events twice where the recluse had been.

John’s research had revealed to him that Jeremy _(call me Jer, Harold)_ Fenwick was an auditor for Empire Mutual Insurance. He was thirty-nine, fairly well off and had a taste for older men, for their own sake. That was the only thing that saved Fenwick from being beaten to a pulp. If the man had been looking for a sugar-daddy, Reese would have taken him out at once. The op had bided his time, tallying up Jeremy’s ’chance encounters’ with Finch; culminating in the disgusting display he’d witnessed tonight. 

_This is the last straw. That puffed up little bastard laid his sloppy drunk hands on Harold._ Reese was done with playing ‘watch and wait’....now it was time to fight back. 

His eyes flicked to the oak wardrobe Finch had included with the loft’s furnishings; a smirk twisting his lips. The venerable antique contained the trappings for a persona he’d yet to need but now was literally tailor made for his current situation. Tomorrow John Reese would set his plan in motion.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

　

_next day, Shearwater Insurance, Ltd._

_"Mr. Wren?"_

"Yes Ms. Athens?"

_"Mr. Fenwick is here for his two o'clock appointment."_

 

"Send him in please."

_"Yes sir."_

 

Harold heard the click of his office door lock releasing and got to his feet in preparation to greet his visitor. He smiled at the polished young man who stepped forward. 

Harold was very aware of Jeremy's interest in him....desire really. It was flattering on one level and...if his _own_ interest had not been already directed elsewhere, the recluse might have encouraged Fenwick's attentions. Jeremy certainly didn't coddle him; never once referring to his limp or asking about his injuries; which made a refreshing change. If he wasn't conversant with all the activities and subjects Harold was, then at least he made the effort to explore them. 

He was also handsome; if in a fresh untried way and Harold in his more lonely moments contemplated giving in to temptation. He'd caught Fenwick gazing at him almost hungrily a time or two, as if Jeremy would like nothing better than to bend his friend over Wren's polished mahogany desk and fuck him hard.

That thought alone tested Finch more than the younger man would ever know.

The fact was, Harold Finch was _frustrated_ beyond measure. His introverted nature pre-selected him to play the part of 'pursued' rather than 'pursuer' in the realm of interpersonal relations. Only once in fact had he actively courted anyone and that was Grace. Their relationship was also the only time he'd been attracted to a woman. Finding that capacity within himself had shocked him out of his comfort zone enough that he was compelled to see how things would progress. 

Grace had been passive, very willing to follow his cues and leads. Unlike overtures with a prospective male companion, there had been no jockeying for dominance. Being with Grace had proved a singular experience, one of a kind and had taught him more about the fluidity of real love than any of his previous relationships.

What had him so discombobulated now was his partner, John Reese. From the moment his bodyguards had secured the drugged and inebriated man to that hotel bed, Harold had been intrigued. It took every ounce of his willpower not to send the beefy men away so that he could touch the ex-agent. Even with just a bar of soap and a cheap, disposable razor Reese had transformed himself from the foul-smelling, shaggy-haired figure the billionaire had first met by the bridge.

In the intervening time, Finch had come to rely on John's quiet competence and strength; admire his quick-thinking initiative and found appreciation morphing into attraction. Reese was beautiful; in the frighteningly wild way a tiger was. The fact that his ruthless ability to get the job done was balanced by a noble and caring heart within was irresistible to the recluse.

That John Reese was interested in _him_ , he knew for a fact. Although outwardly oblivious to the op's overtures, Finch noticed everything about his employee. The offerings of tea, pastry and various take-out dinners. His penchant for standing close enough for Harold to feel his body-heat. Staying in the billionaire's peripheral field of vision while they were out on business. 

But never initiating _more_. It was if he were cautious.... _afraid_ almost...although the thought of John Reese being frightened by anything was almost too absurd to contemplate.

Harold pushed these fruitless thoughts aside; choosing for the moment to bask in Jeremy's admiration of him.

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

_earlier that afternoon, Reese's loft_

The op regarded himself in the full-length mirror with smug pride. He turned one way and then another; unabashedly admiring how the platinum gray suit looked on his reflection. _The whole point of dark is to avoid attention. This screams 'look at me!!!' to the whole world but damn is it **fine**!_

 

The cobalt silk tie contrasted well with his clothing; its color having the added benefit of enhancing his eyes, causing them to almost glow. The crisp white shirt grounded the whole look and as John adjusted the jacket, he smirked at how the matching waistcoat added formality to the picture he presented. His smirk turned into a full-blown grin as he wiped a smudge of dust off his shoes. _Competent, cool and ruthless in business._ He'd seen the way Finch looked at well-dressed men, half-appraising, half-speculative; as if both sizing them up as rivals and potential lovers. 

He added the final touch, donning the glasses that Finch provided him as part of his cover while protecting the reporter, Ms. Angelis. _Perfect....._ Reese cherished the private notion that haute couture was something of an aphrodisiac for his mercurial, tight-lipped employer. If that was in fact the case, John intended to push all of Harold's buttons today. Armor donned, it was time for the warrior to weapon up and make his move. 

Reese made a quick GPS search on his phone before nodding in satisfaction. The place he was hoping to find was just two blocks down and had a full complement of exactly what he needed. Little Mr. Fenwick was about to find out the full meaning of the phrase 'playing with the big boys'. 

Fifteen minutes later John Reese 'got it'. As soon as he'd walked into the specialty boutique, he was king. _The high-ticket suits and carefully matched colors. The aura of collected courtesy. Harold was a master of his chosen battleground and now John, having skirmished in Finch's arena, understood him a bit better._

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

　

_thirty minutes later_

_"Mr. Wren?"_

"What is it Ms. Athens?"

_"I'm sorry for interrupting but Mr. Rooney, your assets manager is here. He says he needs to speak with you immediately."_

 

Finch was wrong-footed for only a split second before pulling himself together enough to reply.

"Of course, send him in Ms. Athens."

Jeremy's brows had migrated to his hairline during this exchange and he was about to question Harold when the office door opened on Adonis in the flesh. 

Harold Finch had long considered a Golden Eagle to be the pinnacle of all raptor species. Sleek, powerful and with a gaze that demanded all lesser creatures submit to it at once. That 'look of eagles' was turned on him full force by his new visitor, pinning him in his chair. That the eyes roaming possessively over him were sapphire instead of bronze made no difference, the message in them, hunter to hunted, was the same.... _'mine...You....are....mine!'_

_He's wearing them........_ the thought caused a rush of heat to bathe Finch's face. He'd deliberately picked out glasses as part of John's disguise for 'dating' Maxine to keep her under surveillance. Seeing the clear, blue eyes framed by those very lenses now looking into his own, was daunting to say the least. 

 

It was only when those eyes slid to the other occupant of the room in a curt nod of greeting that Harold became aware of Reese's full appearance. His mouth went dry as he took in the exquisitely tailored three piece suit of shining gray, blue tie and finished with a pair of Edward Green Midford oxfords in dark oak. 

How Finch _ached_ to touch those shoes....to inhale the scents of finely tanned leather and polish as he stroked their butter-soft uppers. _They were made to order, had to be..._ he thought... _no store would carry John’s size in stock._ Pictures of a discreet clerk holding Reese’s stocking-clad foot in his hands, carefully taking measurements blossomed in his mind; leaving him feeling shaky.

Harold couldn't help but contrast his visitors' appearances. Reese was power personified; sleek, contained... _lethal_. Confident enough in his abilities that he didn't have to flaunt them. Jeremy, though dapper indeed, seemed gaudy and superficial as a peacock when placed side by side with his op.

Harold hadn't counted on how Reese's altered looks would affect him on a visceral level. When John turned his gaze back to Finch, the recluse felt a dampness in his armpits; realizing he must be bright red by now. Reese's smile was positively predatory.... _He knows. He knows exactly what he's doing to me._

 

"I apologize for barging in on you Harold but a few matters have come up that we need to discuss.... _now_."

 

" _Actually_ , we were getting ready to go to lunch." Jeremy stood up and turned towards the unwelcome intruder. It galled the younger man that he had to tilt his neck upwards to make eye contact with the person he now considered his nemesis. He'd be damned if he wasn't going to fight for Harold though.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name Mr.?"

"John this is Jeremy Fenwick, a business associate of mine." Harold hastened to re-establish control over the situation.

"Jeremy, let me introduce my assets manager, Mr. John Rooney."

Fenwick extended his hand and gave the newcomer's own a quick pump before dropping it again. He had enough sense not to test the taller man's grasp....he felt certain Rooney could crush his fingers with pathetic ease.

"I'm sure you won't mind deferring in favor of Harold's best interests, will you Mr. Fenwick?"

Jeremy felt his cheeks heat up. Rooney's tone was infallibly polite but the older man's attitude clearly indicated that there was no option of Fenwick refusing. _Who the hell does this guy think he is?_ He glanced at Harold, eyes widening as he took in the eagerness on his friend’s face. Wren’s mouth was slightly open and he was leaning towards his financial advisor, hanging on the handsome man’s every word. Jeremy felt a cold lump of disappointment settle in the pit of his stomach. 

“Ah... of course. I wouldn’t want to interfere with Harold's business.”

Finch started at the sound of his name. “What? Oh, yes....thank you Jeremy. Perhaps we can re-schedule-”

Fenwick, summoning his remaining pride, managed a tight-lipped smile. “Sure Harold...I’ll uh, call you shall I?”

“Pleasure to meet you, Jeremy.” John's eyes bored into Fenwick’s own, their message unmistakable. _Do not come near him again.....ever._

 

“You too, Mr. Rooney. Goodbye Harold.” Without waiting for a reply Jeremy slunk out of the executive’s office, tail tucked firmly between his legs.

“Tell your secretary to take a long lunch....better yet, give her the rest of the day off.” John loosened his tie, tossing the length of blue silk onto the small couch. He moved to Finch’s side of the desk, undoing the top two buttons of his shirt as he walked.

“Mr. Reese, I-”

“Just _do it_.”

John's steely gaze focused on him again and the recluse found himself reaching for the intercom button. He instructed Ms. Athens to cancel his afternoon appointments and take some benefit time. When he turned back to his partner, he found himself chest to chest with John Reese. 

“What did you think you were doing there, Finch?”

“What do you mean?”

“With your _little friend Jeremy_...I didn’t realize you were in the market for a toy-boy, Harold.”

“Jeremy is just that, a friend.”

“What about the theatre last week? You came out of the Helen Hayes together; shared a cab.”

“I went alone....Jeremy saw me in the lobby at intermission and yes, we did leave the theatre together...but _as I’m sure you already know_ , I went home alone as well.” Indignation snapped in Finch's eyes. _Following me again, John?_

“And at the Met two nights ago?”

“He’d had a little too much to drink and I offered to take him home in my car.”

“You went upstairs with him....stayed for almost half an hour.” 

John leaned forward, placing his palms flat on the desk to either side of the older man. Finch had the distinct feeling of being caged. He wasn’t afraid of Reese but he was very conscious of his strength and the shift in the power dynamic between them. Harold felt his pulse speed up, his breath catching in his throat as John widened his stance; trapping the billionaire’s hips between his own.

“I helped him into bed. I would do the same for any friend in that condition!”

“Help yourself to anything _else_ while you were there?”

“Mr. Reese! Your implication is offensive. I would never take advantage of anyone...least of all in that situation.” Finch felt his temper rise and he pushed against the younger man’s chest in a futile bid to re-assert himself. He felt his anger drain away as he realized John was laughing.

“Okay, Harold...I believe you.” Reese’s stare took on a softer edge and he sighed, closing his eyes. 

Finch realized that his hands had begun to slide over John’s chest, fingering the luxurious fabric of his waistcoat. He snatched them back at once, dropping his fists down to his sides. “I-I’m sorry....I don’t know why-”

"Yes you do....." John's voice dropped in pitch, his breath warm against Finch's cheek. "You want to do a lot more than that....don't you Harold?"

"John...." Finch stammered as the op's lips traced the outline of his ear. A tremor started at the nape of his neck, sending pleasant tics down his spine to his crotch.

_"You want to kiss me? Hold me close...take me in your mouth and swallow me down until I come for you?"_ John's whispering flooded his mind with thoughts of the two of them entangled in the huge maple wood bed in Reese's loft.

"I want those things too, Harold but you need to understand something first...." John pulled back. 

Finch looked up at him in confusion as John pulled off his unneeded glasses, tucking them in the pocket of his suit coat before shrugging out of it. 

"You belong to _me_ , Finch....no-one else. Especially not some upstart little prick like Fenwick." Reese's eyes bored into the older man's again. _"Do you understand?"_

_"Yes, John....."_

"Good, take off your clothes."

"What?!"

"You heard me Finch, _strip_....now."

"Mr. Reese, I-"

"Harold..." the op's voice was firm, "either you do it or _I_ will."

Of their own volition, Finch's hands moved to his lapels.

"No....your shoes first."

Grateful that he'd chosen his beloved buckle-catch loafers, Harold slipped them off; wincing as his captor kicked them to one side. He looked up at John again and the naked desire he saw in those blue eyes rocked him to the core; effectively melting any remaining resistance to the younger man‘s demands. 

"Jacket...vest...tie...pants..."

One by one, Finch removed each article of clothing; passing them to Reese, who in turn relegated them to the floor. Finally he stood before the taller man clad only in a sleeveless undershirt and his briefs. John had removed his own waistcoat; unbuttoning his shirt to reveal the bronzed torso beneath. Harold wanted to touch that smooth expanse of skin...finger the healed scars, press his mouth to John's chest; _taste_ him. Once again the look in those blue eyes stopped him.

"Harold, do you know how long I've wanted to see you like this?" John's hands unerringly found his nipples; pinching them through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. 

Finch's eyes screwed shut as his partner's clever, seeking fingers played with him. A gasp slipped out between clenched teeth as Harold felt the warmth of John's mouth take the place of one of his hands. The wet fabric brushed the already sensitive nub as Reese's tongue worked him faster.

Pleased at the other man's reactions, John pushed Finch's shirt up, revealing pale flesh with its liberal coating of silvery brown hair. He released the recluse's nipple and stripped his top half bare. 

Harold's arousal was obvious...his erection tenting the front of his briefs and embarrassed by his state of undress compared to his partner's, tried to cover himself. Reese captured his hands; pulling them back down to his sides. 

"No....I want to see you, Harold. _All_ of you. You can't hide from me...not your heart, not your body....not _anything_ Finch."

It was as if John were all over him at once. Hands plucked at his skin.... an eager mouth and tongue traced patterns over his chest and stomach. The overload of sensations threatened to push Harold over the edge too soon and yet when Reese stopped, Finch cried out in protest. He didn't resist when John turned him to face his desk; placing his palms flat on the smooth wood. Harold moaned as Reese slipped a hand underneath the waistband of his briefs, cupping his backside possessively. He felt his underwear being tugged on and shifted his hips to help its progress downward.

John tapped his instep with the toe of his shoe and Harold obligingly spread his legs; bending over his desk when Reese pushed against the small of his back with one hand. Finch knew what was coming and he welcomed it.... _had wanted it for so, so long_. He laughed at himself inside his head. _How could I have ever thought Jeremy might be this for me?_

 

He heard the sound of John's belt being unbuckled; the quiet snick of a zipper opening and felt a shiver run down his body. All at once, Reese spread his cheeks; those strong, sensitive fingers, now slick with lube, finding his opening. Harold arched his hips as much as he was capable of and pushed back against his partner's hand.

"Be still...." and Finch was. 

At this point if John had told the billionaire to throw himself out the window, Harold probably would have. He was under Reese's control and he liked it; moaning as John teased his opening a little more, his index finger just pushing past the first ring of muscles. Harold bit his lip, so stiff by now that his cock was pressing into the front of the desk. 

John slid his finger deeper inside Finch, feeling the older man's muscles clench around him before accepting the intrusion. Seeing Harold spread out in front of him, buttocks thrust up in the air; eager for his penetration...moaning with each thrust had the op hard enough to pound nails. 

"No-one else touches you like this....you hear me Finch? _Only me_!"

"Yes John.... _please, more!_ "

Hearing Harold beg almost made him come right then. Reese pulled his finger out and applying more lube to his hand, slipped two digits inside the older man; grinning smugly at Harold's cries of pleasure. He took his time, thoroughly loosening Finch's muscles and working his way deeper until...

_"Son ofa bitch! John!"_ Harold bucked up as the op stroked his prostate. No-one had touched him this way since Nathan....

"Like it?" Reese rubbed the spongy gland again, then stopped. He smiled in possessive pleasure as Finch moaned in protest. "Say it, Harold!"

"Please John....I want you inside me, not your fingers.... _you_!"

"Who do you belong to Harold?" Reese's voice was quiet as he eased himself inside his partner.

"You John... _aaahhhh_ " The op's cockhead now brushed Finch's prostate....once...twice...

"Who, Harold?"

"You..."

"Say it!"

"I belong to John..... _mmmppphhh!_ " Finch was rapidly losing his ability of coherent thought as Reese continued to pull out and push back inside him. Strong hands pulled his body upright, hugging him against the op's chest as John's hips pistoned up and down beneath him. One arm snaked down to capture Harold's penis in a tight grip. The recluse moaned again as he was stroked with possessive force.

"Say it, Harold!"

"John Reese....I belong to John Reese!" with a final push of his hips, Finch felt himself come in John's cupped fingers; hot semen slipping down his shaft and coating his groin. John surged beneath him, thrusting in short, fast pumps until he cried out Finch’s name and a wet heat filled Harold up inside. The older man gasped again as he felt John bite down on his neck, knowing that Reese had marked him as his own.

Supporting Finch’s weight easily in one arm, John slipped out of him; turning the smaller man so that they were chest to chest. Reese bent his head and captured Harold’s mouth with his; kissing him with a tenderness that made the older man’s heart contract. When John pulled back, his eyes were filled with warm affection.

“I love you Harold Finch; are we clear on that? Don’t make me go breaking a bunch of pretty-boy heads to prove it.”

Finch gave a quiet laugh, daring to cup John’s cheek in his palm. “As crystal, Mr. Reese.” He looked down in surprise as something closed over his other wrist. “What’s this?”

“Just something to help you remember our _discussion_ today.” John secured the clasp of the shining platinum band Harold now wore. Finch brought his hand up to his eyes, reading the single word engraved on the bracelet’s face in elegant script: _**Mijin**_.

 

“Mine?”

“Yes...you are aren’t you?” Reese went to his knees; his hot, hungry mouth pulling Finch’s now flaccid cock inside it.

Harold felt his knees trembling and leaned against the desk for support as John’s tongue stroked him back into hardness. “Yes....oh yes indeed!” 

_This.....uhhhhnnggghh....._ Finch's thoughts, though disjointed thanks to his current activities, still radiated smugness. _This was more than worth waiting for!_

**poipoipoipoipoipoipoipoipoi**

NOTES: This person's request was- “Or Reese is secretly following Finch as usual and he sees that he is showing mild interest in a business colleague from one of his other "lives", like an insurance agent or lawyer or a member of a Board Finch belongs to? Reese is feeling very uneasy and subconcsiously jealous. And those feelings finally force Reese to realize what Finch means to him and that he needs to CLAIM Finch as his own.”

My twist on this of course has to include some angsty, office sex. The problem is now Jeremy has his own backstory in my brain as well as a rebound love interest.....which I DON’T have time to write at present but may some time in the future have to return to. Curse these OCs that come pester me with their auxiliary lives!!

In any case it was a very fun, sexy request. I had a great time writing it, ENJOY!


End file.
